About Me

Fun-loving, crazy, suicidal (in a fun, not-too-lethal way), adventurous and out-going. Love to read and write stories, read and draw comics, listen to music and singing, watch tv and sleep. An uber fan of yaoi, which icked many, including my bf, but celebrated by many onliners. YAOI RULEZ~!!!

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The old man sat in his gas station on a cold Christmas Eve. He hadn't been anywhere in years since his wife had passed away. It was just another day to him. He
didn't hate Christmas, just couldn't find a reason to celebrate. He was
sitting there looking at the snow that had been falling for the last
hour and wondering what it was all about when the door opened and a homeless man stepped through.

Instead of throwing the man out, Old George as he was known by his
customers, told the man to come and sit by the heater and warm up.
"Thank you, but I don't mean to intrude," said the stranger. "I see you're busy, I'll just go."

"Not without something hot in your belly." George said.

He turned and opened a wide mouth Thermos and handed it to the
stranger. "It ain't much, but it's hot and tasty. Stew ... Made it
myself. When you're done, there's coffee and it's fresh."

Just at that moment he heard the "ding" of the driveway bell. "Excuse
me, be right back," George said. There in the driveway was an old '53
Chevy. Steam was rolling out of the front.. The driver was panicked.
"Mister can you help me!" said the driver, with a deep Spanish accent.
"My wife is with child and my car is broken." George opened the hood. It
was bad. The block looked cracked from the cold, the car was dead.

"You ain't going in this thing," George said as he turned away.

"But Mister, please help ..." The door of the office closed behind
George as he went inside. He went to the office wall and got the keys to
his old truck, and went back outside. He walked around the building,
opened the garage, started the truck and drove it around to where the
couple was waiting. "Here, take my truck," he said. "She ain't the best
thing you ever looked at, but she runs real good."

George
helped put the woman in the truck and watched as it sped off into the
night. He turned and walked back inside the office. "Glad I gave 'em the
truck, their tires were shot too. That 'ol truck has brand new ones ."
George thought he was talking to the stranger, but the man had gone. The
Thermos was on the desk, empty, with a used coffee cup beside it.
"Well, at least he got something in his belly," George thought.

George went back outside to see if the old Chevy would start. It
cranked slowly, but it started. He pulled it into the garage where the
truck had been. He thought he would tinker with it for something to do.
Christmas Eve meant no customers. He discovered that the block hadn't
cracked, it was just the bottom hose on the radiator. "Well, shoot, I
can fix this," he said to himself. So he put a new one on.

"Those tires ain't gonna get 'em through the winter either." He took the
snow treads off of his wife's old Lincoln. They were like new and he
wasn't going to drive the car anyway.

As he was working, he
heard shots being fired. He ran outside and beside a police car an
officer lay on the cold ground. Bleeding from the left shoulder, the
officer moaned, "Please help me."

George helped the officer
inside as he remembered the training he had received in the Army as a
medic. He knew the wound needed attention. "Pressure to stop the
bleeding," he thought. The uniform company had been there that morning
and had left clean shop towels. He used those and duct tape to bind the
wound. "Hey, they say duct tape can fix anythin'," he said, trying to
make the policeman feel at ease.

"Something for pain," George
thought. All he had was the pills he used for his back. "These ought
to work." He put some water in a cup and gave the policeman the pills.
"You hang in there, I'm going to get you an ambulance."

The
phone was dead. "Maybe I can get one of your buddies on that there talk
box out in your car." He went out only to find that a bullet had gone
into the dashboard destroying the two way radio.

He went back
in to find the policeman sitting up. "Thanks," said the officer. "You
could have left me there. The guy that shot me is still in the area."

George sat down beside him, "I would never leave an injured man in the
Army and I ain't gonna leave you." George pulled back the bandage to
check for bleeding. "Looks worse than what it is. Bullet passed right
through 'ya. Good thing it missed the important stuff though. I think
with time your gonna be right as rain."

George got up and poured a cup of coffee. "How do you take it?" he asked.

"None for me," said the officer..

"Oh, yer gonna drink this. Best in the city. Too bad I ain't got no donuts." The officer laughed and winced at the same time.

The front door of the office flew open. In burst a young man with a
gun. "Give me all your cash! Do it now!" the young man yelled. His hand
was shaking and George could tell that he had never done anything like
this before.

The young man was confused. "Shut up old man, or I'll shoot you, too. Now give me the cash!"

The cop reached for his gun. "Put that thing away," George said to him, "we got 1 too many in here now."

He turned his attention to the young man. "Son, it's Christmas Eve. If
you need money, well then, here. It ain't much but it's all I got. Now
put that pea shooter away."

George pulled $150 out of his
pocket and handed it to the young man, reaching for the barrel of the
gun at the same time. The young man released his grip on the gun, fell
to his knees and began to cry. "I'm not very good at this am I? All I
wanted was to buy something for my wife and son," he went on. "I've lost
my job, my rent is due, my car got repossessed last week."

George handed the gun to the cop. "Son, we all get in a bit of squeeze
now and then. The road gets hard sometimes, but we make it through the
best we can."

He got the young man to his feet, and sat him
down on a chair across from the cop. "Sometimes we do stupid things."
George handed the young man a cup of coffee. "Bein' stupid is one of the
things that makes us human. Comin' in here with a gun ain't the answer.
Now sit there and get warm and we'll sort this thing out."

The young man stopped crying, and looked at the cop "Sorry I shot you. It just went off. I'm sorry officer." he said.

"Shut up and drink your coffee " the cop said.

George could hear the sounds of sirens outside. A police car and an
ambulance skidded to a halt. Two cops came through the door, guns drawn.
"Chuck! You ok?" one of the cops asked the wounded officer.

"Not bad for a guy who took a bullet. How did you find me?"

"GPS locator in the car. Best thing since sliced bread. Who did this?" the other cop asked as he approached the young man.

Chuck answered him, "I don't know. The guy ran off into the dark. Just dropped his gun and ran."

George and the young man both looked puzzled at each other. "That guy work here?" the wounded cop continued.

"Yep," George said, "just hired him this morning. Boy lost his job."

The paramedics came in and loaded Chuck onto the stretcher. The young man leaned over the wounded cop and whispered, "Why?"

Chuck just said, "Merry Christmas boy ... and you too, George, and thanks for everything."

"Well, looks like you got one doozy of a break there. That ought to solve some of your problems."

George went into the back room and came out with a box. He pulled out a
ring box. "Here you go, something for the little woman. I don't think
Martha would mind. She said it would come in handy some day."

The young man looked inside to see the biggest diamond ring he ever saw.
"I can't take this," said the young man. "It means something to you."

George turned around & found the stranger had returned. "Where'd you come from? I thought you'd left?"

"I have been here. I have always been here," said the stranger. "You say you don't celebrate Christmas. Why?"

"Well, after my wife passed away, I just couldn't see what all the
bother was. Puttin' up a tree and all seemed a waste of a good pine
tree. Bakin' cookies like I used to with Martha just wasn't the same by
myself and besides I was gettin' a little chubby."

The
stranger put his hand on George's shoulder. "But you do celebrate the
holiday, George. You gave me food and drink and warmed me when I was
cold and hungry. The woman with child will bear a son and he will become
a great doctor.

The policeman you helped will go on to save
19 people from being killed by terrorists. The young man who tried to
rob you will make you a rich man and not take any for himself. "That is
the spirit of the season and you keep it as good as any man."

George was taken aback by all this stranger had said. "And how do you know all this?" asked the old man.

"Trust me, George. I have the inside track on this sort of thing. And when your days are done you will be with Martha again."

The stranger moved toward the door. "If you will excuse me, George, I
have to go now. I have to go home where there is a big celebration
planned."

George watched as the old leather jacket and the
torn pants that the stranger was wearing turned into a white robe. A
golden light began to fill the room.